Old Friends

A/n: The result of binge watching the first season of The West Wing and being utterly charmed by the endearing Sam Seaborn. Takes place immediately post 1.14 ("Take This Sabbath Day"). TW for references to past violence.

"I understand. Yes, yes, I can comprehend the words coming out of your mouth, strangely enough. Yeah, Bobby. For a while, now."

Toby stood outside Sam's office, listening to Sam's half of the phone conversation in quiet amusement. The frustration on Sam's face was incredibly evident. One hand clasped around a pen tightly. The other hand held the phone to his ear. Sam had yet to notice Toby. It was just past midnight. Just past Cruz's execution. Just past C.J.'s press release. The initial shock had worn off. President Bartlet's senior staff, for the most part, had returned to their offices. C.J., after speaking with the press, had gone home. Josh and Donna were sitting in Josh's office, not really saying anything. Toby and Sam had stayed in their offices for most of the night. Toby had only gotten up to get some coffee when he overheard the conversation in Sam's office.

Sam listened for a while, until he could no longer hold in his anger. "Stop, stop!" He exclaimed, sitting up. "Bobby, listen to me. This conversation is a waste of both of our time. I did everything I could, I-" Sam was interrupted. "Yes!" he interrupted the person on the other end. "Yes, I am. I am so—what? No, no, you're not listening. I did what I could. The President's opinion, in a general sense, tends to take precedent over yours. Yes, and mine. It doesn't matter. Bobby…" Sam threw the pen up in the air. It landed on a pile of papers cluttered on Sam's desk. Toby raised his eyebrows.

"It's 12:30 in the morning." Sam said this time, quieter. "It's been a long day. I think I've done enough for this case. Yeah. No. No. Okay." The conversation ended. Sam set down the phone softly, inhaling deeply. He let out the breath, closing his eyes.

"Who was that?" Toby asked, stepping into Sam's office, slightly. There was no response from his deputy, so Toby tried again. "Sam?"

Sam's eyes shot open. "Sorry." He said quickly. He blinked at Toby for a second, before remembering the question. "Bobby Zane." He answered. "The-"

"One of Cruz's lawyers." Toby finished. "The one who spoke to my rabbi."

"That…that would be him." Sam answered. He stood up. "I think I'm going to head out. You need anything before I leave?"

"Uh, no, no." Toby was staring at the ground, not focused on Sam's question. He was thinking. "Listen, Sam-"

"I'd love to talk, Toby, but I'm really not in the mood right now, I've got to be honest." Sam ran a hand along the back of his neck. "I've got to be back here in a few hours, anyway. I'd like to get some sleep."

"Yeah, of course." Toby said. "See you in a few hours."

"Yeah." Sam said. He grabbed his blazer and nodded, shrugging into it. "Goodnight, Toby."

"Night, Sam."

Later that morning, however, when the sun was up and the staff had returned, Toby had not forgotten about Sam's phone call. Normally, the things that made Sam tick did not register with Toby. Or, put differently, he just didn't care. But it was the freshness of Cruz's execution, perhaps, that made Toby linger on the frustration on his coworker's face while speaking with Bobby Zane. Frustration, exhaustion, and something else Toby couldn't quite name. Which, as a professional writer, frustrated him.

So Toby went to Josh the next morning, catching up to him as the deputy walked briskly to his office.

"Hey, Toby." Josh said, giving Toby a quick and tired smile. They were all tired after their late night, which was not at all a new occurrence. Toby lived on four hours of sleep a night and copious amounts of coffee. Usually, after a late night, Sam would enter Toby's office sometime in the afternoon and explain the importance of a regular sleep cycle, the benefits of sleep, and the surrealism of dreams. He would do this until Toby kicked him out, or, on a rare day, when Sam's schedule was light, Toby allowed Sam to take a nap on his office couch. Sam had yet to hint he was going to make one of his sleep speeches to Toby that morning. In fact, Sam hadn't really come out of his office at all, which was exactly why Toby needed to catch up with Josh.

"Josh, I wanted to ask you something." Toby said, following Josh into his office. Josh set down his backpack and shrugged. "It's about Bobby Zane. One of Cruz's lawyers."

"Cruz. Christ," Josh sighed. "I don't want to think about Cruz anymore."

"Did Sam know Bobby Zane before this case?" Toby asked.

'How would I know that?" Josh scoffed.

"Josh." Toby cleared his throat. "Did Sam know Bobby Zane prior to this case?"

Josh shrugged, thinking. "I don't know, Toby. They're both lawyers. Their paths may have crossed at some point. Why?"

This time, Toby shrugged, nonchalant. "No reason in particular. Bobby called Sam. After the execution. It wasn't really a cordial conversation."

"Yeah, well," Josh sighed. "Team morale was pretty low after midnight."

"That's it." Toby responded blandly. "Okay, anyway. I'll see you later."

"Yeah." Josh said, already focused on the folder Donna had walked in to hand him. Later, however, when Toby had returned to his office, and Josh had stared at the words on the page in front of him without really focusing for what seemed like half an hour, Josh closed the folder and stood up.

"Damn it," he whispered under his breath. Now he wanted to know who Bobby Zane was.

"Kathy." Josh stopped Sam's secretary outside of Toby's office. "You got a minute?"

"Yeah, Josh, what's up?" Kathy asked. Josh fell in line with Kathy as she returned to her desk and began to type up a memo for Sam.

"Listen, do you remember forwarding a call to Sam from a Bobby Zane around midnight this morning?" Josh asked, sitting on the edge of her desk. He crossed his arms against his chest.

"Yeah, sure." Kathy answered evenly.

"Has he called before?" Josh asked. "Before the Cruz case, I mean."

"No." Kathy shook her head. "This was the first time. Why?"

But Josh was already a few steps ahead of her. "This Bobby, did he say anything about him and Sam? Like if they were friends or anything?"

"Sure, yeah." Kathy nodded, more focused on the memo then Josh. "He said they were old friends."

"Old friends?" Josh repeated.

Kathy shrugged. "That's what he said."

Toby was walking towards his office, now, speaking to C.J. and balancing a cup of coffee and printed speeches in his hands.

"Toby." Josh said, standing up. He nodded towards the closed door to Sam's office. Toby ignored him. C.J. said a few parting words to Toby and then walked past him.

"Sam's writing." Toby told Josh as he went into his office and set down his things. Josh followed him, leaning against the doorway.

"I know. Remarks for the dinner with Norway." Josh said. "Listen, Kathy told me that Bobby Zane claims he and Sam are 'old friends'."

"Old friends." Toby repeated. "Well, I'll take that with a grain of salt."

"Want to go ask him about it?" Josh asked.

"I can think of about ten things I'd like to do more." Toby answered after a brief moment of hesitation.

"Toby-"

"Certainly killing myself is on the list."

"Toby."

Too soon. Toby realized that just after he said the words. He cleared his throat, looking down. "Okay," he said when he looked up again. "Okay."

"Yeah?" Josh's eyes lit up.

"On the basis that I was the one who ignited this…curiosity in you and would like to know the truth on a matter of principle, not because I care about-"

"C'mon." Josh wasn't listening, he was already leaning over to knock on Sam's door. "Sam." He said, knocking louder.

"Come in." Sam called distractedly. Josh turned the knob and disappeared into Sam's office. After cursing under his breath, Toby followed Josh.

Sam was typing quickly, his glasses on and tie loosened. His eyes remained on his notes but he nodded a greeting to Josh. Toby could not tell if he had noticed him.

"Hey, man, how's it going?" Josh asked. "You busy?"

"Completely free," Sam answered sarcastically, continuing to type. "I have absolutely nothing to do but—nope." Sam suddenly stopped typing, his posture deflating. He pulled a pen from behind his ear and crossed out a huge section on his legal pad. "That's shit."

"Music to my ears." Toby supplied.

"Hey, Sam, listen." Josh started. "Why didn't you tell us you knew Bobby Zane?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Why didn't you tell us who Bobby Zane is?" Josh repeated.

"He's an attorney. He was Cruz's attorney." Sam stated slowly before his mind seemed to catch up with what Josh was implying. He stopped himself from rolling his eyes and turned to Toby. "Toby, look, I'm sorry about telling Bobby where your temple is. I was out of line. That was personal information. I thought I was doing the right thing and I-"

"No, it's more than that." Toby shook his head. Sam looked at him exasperatedly. "You, of all people, know what's right or not."

"If you are referring to my moral compass-"

"Sam, and believe me when I say I don't care, but did you feel like you didn't have any choice but to give Bobby Zane the name of my rabbi?"

Sam laughed, confused. He glanced at Josh before looking back at Toby. "I'm not sure what you're imply-"

Josh spoke up. "Sam, it's okay. I know you didn't want to disappoint an old friend, but-"

"Friend?" Sam's head snapped up, suddenly. He gave Josh a hard look. "Bobby Zane was and never has been my friend. Who said we were friends?"

"Bobby did." Toby answered evenly, aware of his deputy's flared temper. "That's what he told Kathy, Sam. He said you were old friends."

"Did something happen between you two?" Josh asked Sam. "Another case?"

But Sam had had enough of the conversation. He shook his head curtly before Josh could speak again. He spoke quickly, as fast as the thoughts came to him, in order to get Toby and Josh off of his back. Sam wanted to focus on his work. "I knew Bobby Zane in high school. He didn't like me. That's it. That's really it. I never expected to see him again, but I did, and Bobby asked me for my help, so I tried to help."

Sam did. He tried to help. He didn't even think about it, it was instinctive. Sam immediately met Bobby after his call and help him in any way he could, even though Sam's true influence over the president's thoughts was incredibly slim. Still, Sam hardly hesitated when Bobby demanded to know the address of Toby's temple. He didn't think about privacy or logistics because all he could think about was trying to ensure Bobby wouldn't punch him in the face or break his ribs like he used to when they were teenagers at school, right before an important speech, or game, or fucking school dances or the SAT, always when it mattered and never when it didn't.

Sam was expecting some sort of comeback from Josh, or a sarcastic excuse Toby would use to leave the room, but when Sam looked up and saw the look of shock and anger on Josh's face, Sam realized that he had said that last part out loud.

No, no. No, he couldn't have said all that out loud. He glanced at Toby, panic rising in his stomach, but Toby wouldn't look at him. He was staring at his hands with great disinterest, but his jaw was clenched. Sam stuttered, trying to say something to make up for his slip. A lie. He should lie. Just make up a story. That's what you do. You're a writer. Make something up. Make something-

"You know, uh, the body requires eight to ten hours of sleep a night, specifically-"

"Sam." Toby looked up. He looked straight at Sam, as if to say, silently, that there was no reason for Sam to start listing off facts. Toby saw right through him. This disquieted Sam even more. He stood quickly.

"I didn't realize I said that." He admitted. He couldn't think of a sufficient lie. "I…I didn't realize I-"

"Sam-"

"I've got a meeting." Sam gathered his stray papers and put them into the nearest manila folder he could find. He grabbed his glasses and legal pad quickly, clearing his throat. He made a show of looking at his watch and grabbing his blazer. "Don't want to be late."

Josh opened his mouth to speak, to probably say his friend's name again, stupidly, or something equally as redundant, but Toby quickly shook his head. Sam, painfully, watched this exchange before he pushed his way out of his office, waiting until he was out of view before exhaling loudly and running a tired hand along his face in humiliation.

The three men retreated to their separate offices after their staff meeting that day, careful to avoid to eye contact and anything regarding the Cruz execution. Without much distraction, Sam flew through a few drafts of his speech, and even touched up on notes from President Bartlet to dignitaries he had been asked to write. Kathy delivered Sam's draft to Toby. Sam stayed in his office.

At nine that evening, Sam turned off his lamp light. He was going home. The last few nights he hadn't left the office until well past one in the morning. He was sleep deprived and overworked, and, most of all, he wanted to avoid any more questions. Still, Sam found himself gravitating towards his boss's office before he left the West Wing. He put on his coat, ready to make a quick exit, if necessary, before entering Toby's office.

Toby was staring at Sam's speech, one hand rubbing his temple, the other holding a pen that hovered over the paper, ready to write comments and change words. There wasn't much to say with this speech, however. It was incredibly well-written. Sam really did have quite a gift with oratory. Maybe that was why Bobby Zane beat him up before his speeches. Maybe he was jealous. Maybe a bruised or broken rib, ensuring less bravado in Sam's recitation of a speech, was how Bobby quelled his jealously. Well, anyway. Now Toby was caring. He was very good at doing exactly the opposite of that. He didn't want to learn now.

"I'm going to head out." Sam spoke, then. He was standing close to the door in Toby's office, coat on.

"Yeah." Toby said, clearing his throat. "See you in the morning."

"I'm going to catch up on my sleep debt." Sam nodded, more to himself than to Toby.

"Okay."

"Okay." Sam repeated. He paused for a moment. "Toby-"

"What?" Toby looked up from the speech. "It's a good speech, Sam."

Sam nodded. "I was just going to apologize. Again. For the temple thing. I thought I could save a life, that's all. I didn't really think it through."

Having to listen to Sam justify his giving out Toby's personal information again sounded just as bad as listening to the president explain the finer points of each national park in excruciating detail, so Toby held up a hand, cutting off Sam. Toby set down his pen and tried to think of something to say that would get Sam out of his office in the quickest amount of time.

"I'm obligated, as your boss, to say something comforting here, so I'm just going to say that we've all been bullied-" Sam scoffed at the word, his pride hurt, but Toby continued. "-and if Josh was being to pushy, I'll let him know."

Sam ignored the comment. "I'm not a kid anymore. I've made something of myself."

"Okay."

"The fact that Bobby Zane came to me and asked for my help means that…means that clearly I'm doing something important. Something of influence."

"I would say the White House has influence, yes-"

But Sam was building himself up with a healthy serving of his trademark optimism. "All in all, I'm glad we met again." He said firmly.

Toby looked at Sam. "I think, at best, that's an exaggeration, but-"

"No, no, agreed." Sam was coming off his momentary high, "definitely an exaggeration." He sighed. "Anyway. Goodnight, Toby."

"Yeah. See you tomorrow." Toby said, returning to the speech in front of him.

Josh was waiting outside for Sam, taking in the cool night air. He, too, was going home. But he wanted to make sure Sam was okay before left.

He caught up with Sam before he got to his car. "Sam!"

"Hey, Josh." Sam greeted his friend. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey, wait." Josh started, grabbing Sam's arm. "I just wanted to say-"

"Josh-"

"No, listen to me, this is good." Josh said with a hint of a smile. "Remember when you, C.J., and I took Charlie to that bar, and Zoey and Mallory came along? And then those assholes were bothering Zoey and Charlie."

"Yeah, I remem-"

"Well?" Josh waited for Sam to get on the same page as him. "Well? You stood up to those assholes! You didn't even hesitate. You and I totally could have taken them."

Sam paused, staring at Josh before smiling. "You're trying to make me feel better. "

"Yeah, is it working?" Josh laughed. "C'mon, man, you really could have taken them by yourself. You weren't scared at all."

"I'm fine, Josh." Sam said. "Really. I didn't expect to tell you all of my childhood woes, but I'm fine." When Sam saw Josh's still hesitant face, Sam rolled his eyes. "Really."

"Okay." Josh said, holding up his hands in the air. "All I'm saying is you give me the word and I'll kick this guy's ass all the way back to California."

Sam laughed at this. "I believe you," he smiled.

"C'mon," Josh said, throwing an arm around his friend. "You hungry? Let's go get something to eat. I promise to get you back home in time for you to get a decent amount of sleep."

"Eight to ten hours, Josh." Sam said, but allowed himself to be steered down the street by Josh strong arm and promise of food. He listened to Josh tell an exaggerated version of one of he and Donna's conversations from that afternoon, laughing and responding with an equal amount of sarcasm and genuine comments that eventually Sam did put the events of the last two days in the back of his mind, comforted by the thought of food, friends, sleep, and how far he had come.